


Lords of Valyria

by Sereven



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Sith Apprentice Viserys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-11-14 13:49:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11209362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sereven/pseuds/Sereven
Summary: The day his mother died, Viserys Targaryen lost everything. His family, his claims, and titles, his name... and his freedom. Whether it was the will of the Force or mere happenstance, a being of darkness found him on that day and changed his destiny. Raised as the tool and hidden apprentice of Darth Plagueis the Wise, his part in the greater schemes of the galaxy was just about to begin. But first, he would have to prove himself... by conquering his primitive homeworld for his master...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone. This story is one of my odder ideas. The basic gist is simply explained. What would happen if the Targaryens had been Force sensitive and Viserys, mad as he is, ends up in the not so gentle care of a dark master?
> 
> This story starts in 296 AL, so Viserys is about 20 years old at the beginning of the story. In the Star Wars timeline, we have the year 37 BBY, 5 years before Episode One.

Viserys knelt in the dark chamber, motionless and silent as he meditated. It always calmed him, liberated him from all ails and burdens in his life. On some days it refreshed him more than several long hours of sleep ever would. Just kneeling there, breathing calmly, as he allowed the Force to flow through him. Just as his master had taught him.

It had been a taxing day, one filled with the incessant complaints of the Triarchs and their petty games. Everything that happens inside the Black Walls of eastern Volantis was nothing but a game and all the people outside of the walls were mere pawns. At first, it had amused Viserys, but the more he learned about manipulation and the subtlety of a well-executed intrigue, the less he seemed to care for the uninspired plots of the triarchs.

The elections for the new triarchs were approaching and the insanity that came with it had begun to wear down Viserys’ mental defenses. For a time he had entertained the idea of becoming a triarch himself, but his master had ordered him to abstain from such foolishness. The politics of Volantis were easy to manipulate from the shadows, it was why he had come to this city in the first place, even though the financial intricacies of Braavos had interested his master far more.

So Viserys endured the insanity and used every chance he would get to reassemble his well-crafted facade. One day all his carefully prepared plans would give him the one thing he truly desired. The power to rule over all others.

But even at night, he wouldn’t be left alone as it seemed. An annoyance had just entered the room. Silent like a cat and surely just as stealthy. But no one can truly hide from the Force. At least not for long and not in his own home.

His eyes were still closed, as he stretched out with the Force to study the soon to be dead assassin. He could feel fear and apprehension. How very curious. It was obvious that this one knew what had happened to the last assassin that had dared to enter this palace. And the dozen that had come before him.

“You are very brave to face me. And very foolish as well,” Viserys said loudly, as he felt the assassin not far behind him. The previous feeling of fear he could sense had now turned into terror, as he stood up to face the intruder.

He was surprised when he saw the attacker. A woman, scantily clad like one of the whores Triarch Moroquo likes to buy from the Lyseni slave traders. She had a pretty face as well, unmarred by the toils of life. She could have passed for a noble’s daughter with such looks, not that it would save her if she actually was one.

“Any last words before you die,” he asked her casually, a cruel smirk spreading on his lips.

The woman didn’t answer, instead, she ran towards him, a short blade in her hands, ready to cut deep into his flesh. But before she could reach him, he had used the Force to summon one of the swords that decorated the walls of the room. With one swift strike, the threat had been dealt with. With cold efficiency, beaten into him in endless grueling hours of training, he removed the blade and the hand that held it from his attacker.

Panic and pain flashed over the woman’s face, but before she could utter a single sound, Viserys had her in a force choke hold.

“This is insulting,” he spat, “The last one had at least tried to resist. I will not be ridiculed like this!”

The grip around her throat tightened, as his anger took over and the faced of self-control shattered for a brief moment.

He threw her across the room, leaving a long trail of blood on the ground. He knew that he had little time if he wanted to get some answers out of her. She would bleed to death. Quickly. This wouldn’t be such a problem if he had a lightsaber. But his master had not deemed him ready for it yet. There was still a trial of sorts. An initiation to signify his new position as the apprentice of a Sith Lord.

“Who sent you?” he barked, “Cossomo? Trianna? Or was it that foolish lump of flesh that soils my throne with his presence?”

She remained silent. But not out of defiance, but rather out of fear. She looked at him in such terror that she was unable to utter a single word in fear of getting struck again. Oh, how Viserys wished that he knew how to use Force Lightning. His master had shown it to him once but never taught him how to do it. The reason was the same as it was with the lightsaber. Oh, how useful this skill would be for torture.

“This is your last chance. Answer me and I will grant you a swift and painless death. Defy me and you will learn what true pain is before you perish!”

Again she remained silent. She tried to crawl away, but the blood loss and the near-crippling fear denied her any chance to escape. Viserys just snarled in anger, before he began his grueling task. He would have preferred to reign in his temper through meditation, but hours of torture would calm his raging blood as well… if she would manage to last long enough for that...

It was little over half an hour later when he stepped out of the room again. Several of his servants were waiting there. Slaves he had bought on a whim. There were no words needed for them to know what to do. The assassin’s screams had told the slaves all they needed to know about their task. And he had trained them to understand his wishes without the need of words. Right now they knew that their master had made a mess and now they would have to remove flesh and blood from the tiles of his meditation chamber.

Viserys ignored them as he walked past them and towards another room in his palace that was usually off limits to anyone but himself. The only room in the city that was filled with the technological wonders of his master’s home world. Likely the only place on this entire primitive world that required an energy source.

When his master had taken him, more than eight years before, he had no idea just how vast the universe really was. All he had known about in his youth had been his father’s realm and some of the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea. In fact, he had barely left King’s Landing before… before everything had been taken from him.

He banished thoughts of his past and all he had lost. It wouldn’t do to dwell on such dark memories, especially when his master, his cold and calculating master, would speak to him. It would just end with another lecture about the necessity of emotional control. Passion is what makes a Sith, or so Viserys thought, but his master insisted on tempering the passion and force it to take the form best suited for the situation.

Viserys took another deep breath before he used the holo-communicator to hail his master. He could never be sure whether his master would answer or not, but he was lucky on that day. His call was answered and Viserys quickly knelt down and bowed his head in subservience.

Before him appeared the holographic likeness of his master. Darth Plagueis the Wise. A man whose looks had once scared Viserys half to death. He had thought that his master was a malformed monstrosity, a freak of nature, only to be taught that there were a great many humanoid races in the galaxy and that his master was in fact not human, but a Muun.

“You seem unsettled, my apprentice,” Plagueis said, as he looked down at the boy. “Another attempt on your life, I presume.”

“Yes, master. But this attacker wasn’t even a challenge. None of them are. With your teachings, I have outgrown the boundaries of this primitive world.”

“So you say,” the dark lord mused, “Whether or not this is true has yet to be determined.”

“I am ready for my trials, master. Allow me to prove myself, so I can take my place at your side, where I rightfully belong!” Viserys insisted. He had never been comfortable seeing himself as a servant, but Darth Plagueis was as powerful as he was wise and it would be the best way to gain the power he craved. He would become a true Sith and one day he would return to annihilate all those who had dared to stand against him and his family. One day he would be the master and all others would bow to him.

“Patience has always been a virtue you struggled to master, my apprentice. It is too soon to remove you from this world. It clouds your existence from our enemies. Should Sidious find out about you, he will end you. My undeserving former apprentice is vastly more powerful than you.”

Viserys frowned and muttered angry curses as he heard this. Sidious. His master’s other apprentice. One of them would have to die first. There can only ever be two Sith, a master, and an apprentice. Darth Plagueis is the master, but who would be his apprentice in the end? Viserys dared not make any claim to that title until Sidious is dead. It would be the final challenge in his trials, to end his rival. And when the day comes and Plagueis had taught him all there is to know, the apprentice would become the master and the cycle continues.

“But your first trial on your world can begin. I deem you ready for such a task,” Plagueis told him. Viserys was all ears, eager to finally make a large step forward. “As you know, your world is shrouded in the dark side of the Force. It is powerful enough to hide you from the prying eyes of the Jedi, but there has to be a source. The land of your ancestors is where the Force is the strongest, start your search there and unravel the secrets of the past.”

“Are there other Sith on this world?” Viserys asked, surprised by his master’s words. Had he been blind, to miss the dark presence in Valyria? It was only a short distance away from Volantis, yet he had not felt a thing. Or maybe he was too immersed in the dark side himself to feel any difference in the land around him.

“There is only one Sith remaining and two who covet the position of the apprentice, but that does not imply that your world has not been touched by Sith in the past. Find the truth and report back to me when you have answers,” Plagueis ordered before he cut the com-link.

Viserys’ frown deepened, as he wondered what would await him in Valyria. So far it had never crossed his mind to go there. The old ruins of the fallen Freehold had never been of any interest to him up until now. Maybe that had been a mistake. But at the same time, he wondered just what his master was hiding from him. It was obvious that the man knew far more than he had told him. Was this a test hidden in a test? Or was there a trap waiting for him… He would have to wait and see. At the very least it would allow him to rid himself of all the pent up frustration. He even hoped that he would find something or someone to fight on the way.

A feral grin spread on his face. It would seem that this night hadn’t been so bad after all.

* * *

 

Making the preparations for his departure had been an arduous task for Viserys. It wasn’t really difficult, not at all with the many slaves he had at his disposal, but it was the ever-changing yet constant struggle of the powerful houses in Volantis that caused him much anger and frustration.

Ever since his master had brought him to this city, the powerful figures in Volantis desired both the riches and growing influence of this new player in their game. What had begun as a charade, a way for Darth Plagueis to control parts of this world had now become Viserys’ new life. And as the boy grew up to become a young man, the other houses began to make their moves, to deal with the foolish boy, who was supposedly the last of an old bloodline. Not that the latter part was false in any way. For all Viserys knew, he was likely the last living Targaryen, something that he would change one day, after he has had his revenge.

And now, that Viserys was about to depart for his excursion to Valyria, the greedy lords and ladies in Volantis would try to usurp his rightful place. He just knew it. It was aggravating to see how open and unashamed they were of their own deeds. But in the end, it wouldn’t matter. He would take everything back and end those who have dared to steal from him. However, it was necessary to hide certain parts of his palace, those parts that were not meant for the prying eyes of the primitives.

Three whole days. The need to hide the greater truth from these people delayed his plans for three days before Viserys finally managed to leave the city and its sweltering heat behind.

He traveled on horseback, always following the old roads that the Lords of Valyria had left behind. The once majestic roads that connected most of the Free Cities were just one of the many great marvels that the dragonlords had left behind before the world was lost in a dark age where all the power and knowledge of Valyria had been lost. House Targaryen had tried to preserve as much they could, but by the time Aegon the Conqueror had bathed Westeros in flames, most of their own past was gone. The war for Westeros was more than just a greedy power play on Aegon’s part, it was the Targaryens’ desperate attempt to prevent themselves from being forgotten by the world they had once helped to shape.

After what seemed like an eternity, he arrived in the former Valyrian city of Mantarys. The city of monsters, inhabited by the broken remains of what may have once been Valyrian citizens.

The city itself surely had its charms. It was as beautiful as any of the other Valyrian colonies. He would even say that it was greater than Volantis in architecture and art, at least for those parts that remained of the past, but with its grotesque inhabitants, the city lost all its allure.

Viserys was hard pressed not to sneer at the people he saw. Malformed people were all around and all those ‘normal’ people who were only passing through on the way east or west stuck out in the crowd. He himself drew far more attention than he had wanted at first. A true Valyrian heir in the midst of creatures, he could see the envy and veneration in their eyes as he passed them.

He watched the people around him closely and allowed the Force around him to flow through him. The feeling of floating in the Force of Valyria made up for the hideous sight he had to endure.

He saw a man who had a third leg, small and crippled, sticking out of his gut. Then there was a woman whose arms were so long they reached to her knees, yet they were thin like sticks and would surely break at the smallest show of force. And those two were only among the more pleasant to look at.

He left his horse at the stables near an inn, paying the crippled stable master three silver coins, likely far too much for the service. But it was better to be generous and ensure compliance than to be without horse when he comes back. He had a feeling that theft would be a likely inconvenience, though surely not the worst of them.

Despite his obvious disdain for the people of Matarys, the young Sith apprentice decided to take a look around. To open his eyes and ears in the hopes of finding something out of the ordinary. Something that might help him with his trial. But he had little hope for success. What would these monsters know about the dark side of the Force?

But he could feel it now. It was much more present this close to Valyria. The seductive pull of the dark side. The sweet temptation of its power and the remorseless use of all the tools he would have at his disposal thanks to the Force. His master had once told him that most Jedi shudder in revulsion when they feel the darkness. To them, it was twisted and repulsive, but to all those who truly lived in the darkness, it was like a cloak, surrounding them, empowering them, nurturing them.

He didn’t really look where he was going, as he walked through the streets. He allowed the Force to guide his steps, something that he only did rarely. It wasn’t the nature of the Sith to blindly follow the Force. That was the folly of the Jedi, but a Sith uses the Force, not the other way round. But as he allowed it to guide him, he soon reached the long market street at the center of the city.

The loud cacophony of the merchants' voices reached his ears, as they all praised their wares as the best of the land. And Viserys was actually impressed when he saw the wide variety of goods they had to offer. Exotic fruits, slaves, intricate jewelry, and colorful materials, there was much to buy. But maybe he should have expected as much. Mantarys was visited by many merchants, as the travel the valyrian road from Volantis to Slaver’s Bay and back. And even among the hideous, there must be some who have enough wealth to crave the finer aspects of life.

He approached a stall that sold a wide variety of pottery, painted in bright colors. It wasn’t that he really intended to buy anything of this sort. He had no need for such trivial things. But he felt like he should take a closer look at what the merchant had to offer.

To his surprise, he found several vases and a plate with symbols he had come to know very well. Symbols that no one in this world should know… unless… He took the plate to have a closer look. His eyes widened in surprise when he realized that the plate was not a work of pottery, but a metal work that was far too precise and clean to be crafted by the hands of a blacksmith on this world. Now he needed to know where this merchant had acquired this.

He looked up from the plate, to look for the merchant, but only found a young girl at the stall. She couldn’t be much older than him, though she was obviously underfed. She was thin, with a gaunt face and small stature. But unlike the rest of the wretches, he had seen in this city, the girl was almost pleasing to the eye, with long dark hair and eyes of a lavender coloring.

“Who would have known that there can be beauty in the city of monsters,” he muttered, as he looked at the girl.

She had heard his comment and looked away, not meeting his eyes anymore, as he cheeks reddened. But he wouldn’t allow her to turn away from him so easily. So he forced her to look back at him, with his free hand on her chin.

“Tell me girl, where did you get this?” he asked, as he showed her the plate. But much to his frustration, the girl didn’t answer. “There is no need to be ashamed, pretty one. Just answer my questions.” He tried a less forceful approach. He was sure that raising his voice in anger would not help him here at all and he didn’t want to be cross with the lone beauty amongst the monsters.

“Forgive her, my lord, but my daughter cannot speak. She has never spoken a word and likely never will make a sound for all of her life. It is her curse.”

The merchant had returned, a hunchbacked man whose nose looked as if someone had pressed a half molten candle between his eyes and mouth. Except for the color of his eyes, there was little to no resemblance to the girl. It would seem that the girl’s only malformation was her inability to speak, a little sacrifice when she could have been a monster like her father.

“Then you tell me, where did you find this? I highly doubt that you have made this,” Viserys demanded to know. His voice was harsh now, much more forceful as he had been with the girl.

“We… found it, my lord,” the merchant said. He looked uncomfortable, his eyes downcast. Viserys knew that this would likely mean that he had gotten the plate either by stealing it from his betters or by robbing the grave of some ancient lord. The latter would be quite interesting for him.

“Did you steal it?” Viserys demanded to know.

“No! Not at all, my lord. My son brought it with him when he returned from an excursion to the ruined city of Oros.”

“A grave robber then,” Viserys spat. “It matters not. I want to speak to your son, I need to know where exactly he has taken this from.”

“That is impossible, my lord,” the merchant groveled, “My son perished not a day after his return.”

Viserys sighed in annoyance. He had a lead, but it would have been much better to have the merchant’s son as a guide to the place where he had stolen the plate.

“That is troublesome. Is there anyone else who was with your son?”

The man did not answer, instead, his eyes darted towards his daughter for a brief moment, before he quickly looked back to the ground.

“Your daughter had been there? A pity she is mute,” Viserys muttered, “No matter, she will guide me there.”

“But my lord, she is but a child. Her last visit had cost her her brother and...”

Viserys growled angrily, as he took two golden coins from his purse and threw them on the table. It was more than this petty man would earn in a year or more, that much was sure.

“My lord, I cannot sell my child. She is no slave and I wouldn’t dare to...”

“I am not buying her as a slave,” Viserys snapped. He used the dark side of the Force to enhance the threat and cause terror in the disfigured man, as he continued, “I hereby hire her as my servant for the time being. You take the gold for your troubles. Surely you wouldn’t dare to insult me any further with your objections?”

“No. Of course not, my lord. I wouldn’t dare to insult you, my lord,” the man said, as he almost fell to his knees. Viserys smirked in grim satisfaction at this display of servility. A little longer and the Force would have broken the wretches’ mind completely. There wouldn’t have been any need to pay the man anything, but for some reason, he felt somewhat charitable.

“Good. I will stay in this city for the night. See to it that your daughter is ready to leave by dawn. I will pick her up at the south gate. But be warned, if she fails to show up, your life will end,” Viserys threatened.

The girl had watched the entire exchange almost apathetic. It was odd that she did not feel frightened by his display of power and his threats. He chuckled, as he looked at her for a long moment. Mute or not, she might be of more use even once she had shown him where her brother had stolen the plate. If she survived the return to the ruins of Valyria.


	2. Chapter 2

His first and by his estimate last night in Mantarys had been spent in a restless frenzy. There was a presence in the Force that he had not sensed before. Dark and intimidating, even compared to monsters like his own master and the other apprentice. But unlike them, it wasn't a signle entity that resonated in the dark side of the Force, but rather the land itself. He could feel the presence growing stronger, reaching out to him and slowly drawing him in. Subtle at first, he was sure that it would soon rise in intensity, an ever growing threat to what little he had left of his sanity.

Yet at the same time is was so damn intriguing. His master hadn't sent him here without a good reason and now that he was this close to Valyria, he knew that there was no turning back. He had to find the source. He had to find the place where the Dark Side was at her strongest. And he would have to find a way to harness this power, to make it his, so he can finally progress with his plans for revenge.

But as the sleep eluded him that night, he began to explore the city a little more. The streets were far less crowded in the dark, though the stench remained an ever present nuisance. It was quite shocking to see how quickly the city devolved into a mess of violence and undesirable behavior as soon as the sun went down, with most of the city guard out of sight. If he had to guess, Viserys would had searched for the guards near the housing of the city’s wealthy and powerful, but here, near the taverns and deserted market streets, no one would stop any crimes from happening.

By the time he had grown bored of his little excursion, he had run into no less than three separate mugging attempts. And though he had quickly, and quite viciously, put an end to all of them, there seemed to be no end to it. The people were either to dumb or too desperate to be discouraged by an enemy that outclasses them in every aspect imaginable.

He sighed, as he looked at the last bloody mess he had created, before he decided to return to his room at the tavern. It was a pity that a once proud daughter of Valyria had fallen so far, but he had little hope to redeem the city of Mantarys. At least not without washing the streets clean with the blood of the countless undeserving wretches that infest the city.

Yet even after the toils of the night and the way his bloodlust had been slated, sleep still eluded him, as the ever present humming of the Force kept him awake and aware of his surroundings.

For a moment he entertained the idea to find himself some company for the night. It wasn’t that late and the tavern was still packed with patrons and whores. A great many of the men he had dealt with in Volantis saw their carnal pursuits as a way of relaxation, though Viserys himself never saw much need for it. And the idea of a lowly whore in his bed caused him to shudder in revulsion. Even in Volantis he had only ever shared his bed with the foolish daughters of the greedy nobles who tried to entrap him with the pretty faces and pliable minds of their offspring.

He knew that his father has had other women in his bed beside his mother and the great King Aerys Targaryen had never settled for anyone less than the best the realm had to offer. At least Viserys remembered it that way.

He groaned in frustration, as none of this really got him any closer to the rest he so craved at that moment. He settled down on his bed in the end, though not to sleep, but in an attempt to meditate. It would have to suffice, even though the Force itself was relentless in its attempts to hinder him at any given moment.

By the time the sun rose once more, Viserys was still far from the state he had wanted to be in for his trip into the heart of Valyria. As such his mood had plummeted and an angry scowl was etched deeply onto his face. Most of the people who saw him like this quickly turned around, hidding behind whatever cover they could find. Or maybe it wasn’t the way he looked like but the unstopple current of the Force that emanated from him, conjuring up the darkest of fears in the feeble minds of the monsters in this city.

The stable master quickly ran away from him, as soon as Viserys had his horse. The man stumbled and fell severel times, much to Viserys mild amusement. It wasn’t enough to lighten his mood, but it certainly didn’t make it any worse.But as he finally reached the southern gate of Mantarys, he finally made an effort to reign in the Force that surrounded him at every step. He wasn’t sure how deeply his dark emotions would effect the girl and he still had need of her. It was bad enough that she couldn’t speak a single word, but it would be worse if she turned into a catatonic mess out of fear. She would lose all use to him if that would happen and he would have to dispose of her then.

His mood lightened a bit more when he spotted the girl waiting for him at the gate. She was alone, her cripple of a father nowhere to be seen. A lone abandoned soul surrounded by the monsters of Mantarys. But it suited him better this way. He was in no state of mind to deal with the simpering fool.

The girl, however approached him as soon as she saw him, dressed in clothing that had likely belonged to her brother before, as the rags she was wearing had clearly been made for a man. But even though the clothes hung almost limply at her frail body, they were still far better suited for traveling than the dirty dress she had worn the day before.

“Get here,” he commanded the girl, as he steered his horse close to her.

She complied swiftly, much to his satisfaction, and allowed him to hoist her up on the horse, where he placed her on the saddle in front of him. She was by far too light for a girl her size, he realized and concern grew whether she would be able to survive the arduous path into the supposedly monster infested remains of Valyria. Losing her on the way would be a hassle.

They followed the crumbling remains of the valyrian road towards Oros, only making the necessary stops to eat and for the horse to rest. They had a long way ahead of them. The remains of the valyrian peninsula were in such chaos and disarray, that traveling would be hard, even on horseback. Getting to Mantarys had been easy in comparrison, with the relatively well preserved road that connect the city to Volantis. But here… the destruction of the Freehold was much more obvious and understandable, after seeing the scale of the destruction. Even after hundreds of years of erosion and nature reclaiming the land, everything still looked as if it had been torn to shreds by a greater power mere weeks ago.

By the time he decided to make camp for the first time, they hadn’t even crossed a fraction of the way. He wanted to curse himself for taking the horse for this excursion, instead of the shuttle his master had provided for him. He would have made it to the Ashai and back in the blink of an eye instead of wasting his time on the near non-existent roads, but on the other hand he had to avoid detection. Not the locals, he couldn’t care less for what the primitives on the planet would see, but he could never be sure just who might pass the planet and see something that shouldn’t exist in a world like this. The key to his survival in a galaxy full of enemies is the fact that no one knows about his existence.

It was already dark by the time he finally settled down near the small campfire he had started. His companion was dozing nearby, exhausted from the many hours on horseback that she wasn’t used to. She had held up better than he had expected, though there was still a lot of concern about her frail body.

“Eat,” he commanded, as he handed her some bread. It wasn’t much, but he not planned on bringing a feast on this excursion, he merely brought the necessary provisions. He had lived on even less during his training on Ziost.

She looked up at him, her eyes studying him silently, as she accepted the bread and began chewing on it. It was a pity she was mute, he mused. Even a barely educated fool would have been at least some diversion this far away from the last remnants of civilization. With no one to talk to and nothing to kill he would grow bored in a matter of days. And a bored Viserys is never a good thing, the prince thought, before he laughed at the mere thought.

Another thought struck him, as he watched her. He didn’t even know her name. Her father had never mentioned it and he doubted that she would be able to tell him.

“Can you read and write?” he asked her.

She looked surprised by his question but quickly shook her head. The answer had been obvious.

He sighed in annoyance, “This is quite troublesome,” he muttered. “I don’t even know what to call you. Damn it all, I just give you a name and you will listen, got that?” She nodded. “Good.” But now he had another problem. What was he supposed to call her? He realized that he wasn’t very good at naming anything, let alone this girl. A Valyrian name wouldn’t do. She wasn’t one of his people, she was underserving of such a name. But neither did he like the bastardized names the people in Volantis use for their offspring. But maybe such a name would have to do for now. “Vaelyn. I’ll call you Vaelyn.”

She accepted the name easily enough, so he could only hope that she would remember it and react to being called that. Well it wouldn’t matter much if she didn’t survive the next few weeks, but she somehow gave him the feeling that she was tougher than she looked. According to her father she had survived the trip to Oros once before, even though it had supposedly killed her brother. He wondered if there was something about her that he had missed. But even reaching out with the Force was useless at the moment. The land itself was brimming with the dark side, blinding him as if he was staring into the sun itself. But he was slowly getting used to it. A few more days and he might be able to adapt to it.

“I really hope you know how to survive,” Viserys muttered, as he suddenly felt a shift in the Force, a sensation so powerful that even his dulled senses had picked it up.

They were not as alone as he had believed at first. Several twisted figures had approached them under the cloak of the night. His hand was already on the hilt of his sword, as he waited for the moment of the attack. Vaelyn had obviously understood why he had tensed up and looked around, to see their enemies.

The attack came suddenly, but not as surprising as the beasts had expected. The moment they rushed out of the darkness, Viserys impaled the first on his sword. With well trained ease and precision he disposed of several more, before he saw them gang up on his companion instead. As one of the monsters tried to lunge at Vaelyn, Viserys grabbed him in a chokehold with the Force, before he crushed the monster against a nearby rock. His liberal use of the Force had visibly shocked the remaining beasts and the few that had survived thus far quickly scurried back into the darkness and out of reach for his still limited Force awareness.

He studied one of the beasts he had killed, but his he quickly moved away, when he saw what was hidden underneath the rags they wore. Those were no monster, these had been people. People consumed by madness and Greyscale.

“Don’t touch them. I’m not sure if their desease is contagious at this stage,” he warned Vaelyn. “I will take care of them.” He grabbed them, one after another, with the Force and hurled them away from their makeshift camp. He frowned deeply as he considered the danger of having these corrupted beasts around. It made him wonder just why they were here in the first place. He had heard rumors about these people from those who had travelled up the river Rhoyne, but to see them in Valyria was something else entirely.

“Sleep now, I will keep my guard up. We will hurry more from now on, so we reach Oros as quickly as possible,” he ordered before he settled down to meditate. Sleep would never find him now, not that he would dare to.

Things happened just as he had expected after the encounter during their first night. More and more beasts, not just the deceased people, but also strangely twisted animals appeared on their path south. The land itself, broken and twisted as it was, seemed to corrupt all living things that linger for too long. Or maybe it was the Force itself, which was so overwhelmingly present in this place.

It was both fascinating to see how the Force seemed to affect everything it touches, yet at the same time it was an unbelievable bother to the young Sith apprentice. The twisted creatures seldom posed a real threat to him and by the third night even Vaelyn had killed one of them with a dagger her had given her for self-defense. But the constant harrasment slowed him down and he hated these beasts even more just for that. In the end he made their deaths slow and painful, just to pay them back for the trouble. It was petty, but it felt good.

They still moved at a maddeningly slow pace and the fact that his only companion in this wasteland was incapable of holding any form of conversation did little to help with his growing frustration. At least he had enough cannon fodder to vent his growing anger on.

A week passed this way, then another. Mindnumbing monotony was slowly driving him mad, as Vaelyn only ever sat there, watching him with an apathetic look. Nothing seemed to disturb her, even when he vented his rage on one of his enemies in the most gruesome fashion. He could only ever wonder what she must have seen on her first trip to Oros, that nothing he could commit seemed to frighten her.

He laughed loudly, mostly in relief, when he saw the ruins of Oros appearing in the distance for the first time. Most would have called him mad and maybe he was, but seeing the city made all the toils of the previous weeks worth it.

He couldn’t contain his amazement when he set foot in the city for the first time. Oros, one of the cities of his ancestors. Not one of the distant daughters, like Volantis and Myr, but a real and pure Valyrian city. Even in ruins, it was amazing.

His master had taken him away from this world. He had shown him some of the greatest wonders in the Republic. He had seen planets like Coruscant, where the entire planet was one big city, or the lush green forest planet Kashyyk. But none of these places had this effect on him. None of them were home…

“Just what wonders have my ancestors built,” Viserys muttered, as he walked towards the remains of a large circular building. “I can only wish I had seen it with my own eyes. My people ruling over these lands, the air filled with our dragons and the entire world trembing in fear of our might...”

All that had remained of this wonderous empire was his family and the more distant colonies. His family had tried so hard to preserve something of their glorious past, but all they could do was conquer the savages in the west and rule over them as was their right. And now… now he was the last true heir of Valyria, after all of those lowly savages had risen up against his father’s rightful rule...

“Vaelyn,” he called out to his companion. She hurried to his side, after studying some rubble at the side of the road. “Show me where you and your brother have found the tablet.”

She simply nodded, before she walked ahead. He was curious whether she truly remembered the path she had taken during her last visit and most importantly, he was worried about what they might find if she remembers correctly. Something had hurt her brother bad enough to cause his death. And from the little tidbits of information he had been given about the boy’s death, it had been slow.

Vaelyn slowly lead him through the streets, until they reached another large ruin. Whatever the building had been used for, it must have been important, judging by the sheer size and the half crumbled statues that had flanked the entrance long ago. It had been several stories tall, though by now it had collapsed entirely, leaving nothing but the ground level filled up with debris and some of the tall walls standing in defiance of the wind and weather.

The girl leads him deeper into the ruin until they reached a hole in the ground, half covered by the remains of the upper levels. It looked like there had been a staircase to some sort of underground level, but the entry was mostly blocked. Vaelyn, thin and small as she was, easily slipped through the small opening, but for Viserys this was a whole different story.

He was too big.

He got angry when he found no other entrance to that lower level. There was only that one small crack in the floor, covered by tons of rubble. He tried to blast the rocks away but saw little to no progress at all.

His master’s teachings came to mind. Mostly his stern reprimands, whenever Viserys had failed to do his task or used a wasteful method to achieve his goal. Effectiveness had been beaten into him, yet here he was, wasting his powers in a fit of anger. He took a deep breath to calm himself, before he knelt down and began to meditate. He tried to channel the Force, both as it passed through him and the ambient Force that was ever present in this city. He focused it on his attempts to move the largest pieces of rubble.

It took all of his concentration, but bit by bit, the larger rocks moved, increasing the width of the entry, until it was finally big enough to fit him. When he released his hold on the Force around him, the ground shook as the large rocks crashed down once more. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the rumbling of another wall collapsing, but he cared little about it. Instead, he resumed following Vaelyn, who had waited obediently for him to catch up to her.

She leads him through a long series of underground tunnels, until they reach one large room, a former study or small library, judging by the remains of books and bookcases. But his eyes were solely focused on the well-preserved statue in the center of the room. He was amazed to see that it was seemingly unaffected by the destruction of the city and the land.

It was the statue of a woman, dressed in armored robes with a sword in her hand.

“What a beauty this woman must have been in her time,” he muttered.

He reached the pedestal and brushed the dirt away, which had covered the inscription. Only small traces remained of the gold that had been used to highlight the words carved into the solid stone pedestal.

“Senna Belaerys,” the inscription read and underneath it continued, “Mistress of the Fourteen Flames.”

He stared at the face of the statue for a long time, marveling at the lifelike beauty of this piece of art. Not even in the Republic, he had seen such a remarkable statue. He vowed to himself that he would come to get this statue one day. He wouldn’t allow for it to rot away in such a place when its beauty should enrich the halls of his own palace.

“If only such a woman was still alive today. What a unique bloodline we could create,” he sighed, as he finally tore his gaze away.

Vaelyn suddenly pulled at his sleeve in an attempt to get his attention. He looked harshly at her, angered by the disturbance, but again she showed no real fear of him. Instead, she pulled him towards the remains of a bookcase, where she knelt down and pulled something out from underneath the dirty.

It was silver object, made of metal and clearly not native to this world. In fact, Viserys recognized it immediately. He had a very similar object in his pocket, though one not even nearly as dirty and still working. A holo-transmitter, a communication device used all over the galaxy. The one question he had to ask was simple, though. How had a piece of technology, which was far beyond the reach of the simple minds of this world, ended up here of all places? Maybe there was still some message left in the memory of this this thing, but the transmitter was so damaged, that he would have to repair it. Or find a way to link it to his own to display any remaining messages.

He pocketed the transmitter and began sifting through the rest of the dirt. But moments later Vaelyn suddenly tackled him to the ground, mere seconds before the black blade of a sword would have cut through him.

Another enemy had snuck up on him, waiting for an opportune moment to strike. Viserys cursed loudly, angry with himself for letting his guard down… again. Had it not been for the girl, he would have been a dead man.

His new enemy wore a dark armor, unlike any he had ever seen in this world. It bore a passing resemblance to some of the amors he had seen on the mercenaries in his master’s employ, though this one looked almost defunct and lacked any sign of technology what so ever. In the end, it mattered little to him, as Viserys jumped to meet his opponent in battle.

They traded blow after blow, slowly circling around the statue, always facing each other. When he tried to use the Force to crush his opponent, Viserys received the shock of a lifetime. The man he was fighting was also a Force user. But which kind? A Jedi? Or maybe another hopeful Sith apprentice, who had come to eliminate another threat.

“So, who has sent you? Sidious or was it my dearest master himself?” Viserys spat. His opponent merely chuckled darkly in reply, before he resumed his relentless assault.

Slowly but surely Viserys was forced into a defensive position. He tried to adapt his fighting style to better match his enemy, but to his growing dread, the man adapted far faster than he would ever be able to.

The end came quick enough, when the former prince stood with his back against the wall, winded by the fight. The armored man seemed not faced by the battle at all. But just as the man was about to strike Viserys down, Vaelyn appeared again. She wielded the dagger Viserys had given her before with a skill that the prince had not expected to see from a frail girl like her.

Taken by surprise, the armored man reacted too late, as the girl targeted one of the cracks in his armor and rammed the dagger into his back, just below his left shoulder. He howled in pain before he disposed of Vaelyn with a Force blow. But the fight was over for him, he knew that much and quickly fled, leaving Viserys and Vaelyn alone in the chamber.

Viserys was still breathing hard, as he watched the man flee. He was in no condition to chase him, so he just stood there and tried to regain whatever strength he could, just in case there might be another attack.

But the man didn’t return.

Then Viserys eyes found Vaelyn, who had lost consciousness after her head had been crushed against the wall by the Force push she had to endure. Viserys checked on her, sighing in relief when he found that she was still very much alive. She had saved his life, not once but twice in the span of only a few minutes.

It turned out that she had clearly been a worthwhile investment, though the nagging feeling of distrust soon overcame him. As he looked at her unconscious form, he couldn’t help himself but wonder one thing.

“Just who or what are you really?”

**Author's Note:**

> Mantarys is one of the many cities founded by the Valyrian Freehold. But it was so close to Valyria itself that it never really got the right to rule itself, which is why it is not considered to be one of the Free Cities, unlike other Valyrian cities like Myr, Lys, and Volantis. Mantarys is interesting here because it is a city of monsters. The people are malformed and twisted and generally looked down upon by others.


End file.
